


hope springs

by mogirl97



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Speculation, season 7 spoilers i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 06:51:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mogirl97/pseuds/mogirl97
Summary: Deja vu.That’s all she can think of as she stands in front of a slightly dirty bathroom mirror with a box of bright pink hair dye.“You have to become someone new.”She can do that. She’s done it before.It’s harder this time.She really liked the Felicity with the blonde ponytail. Who lived in Star City. With her husband.(season 7 spec based on set pics of emily)





	hope springs

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends! i know i've already written some spec for what might happen when oliver gets out of prison, but in light of the new set pics that were leaked i wanted to write another little snippet based off of them. enjoy!

Deja vu.

That’s all she can think of as she stands in front of a slightly dirty bathroom mirror with a box of bright pink hair dye.

_“You have to become someone new.”_

She can do that. She’s done it before.

It’s harder this time.

She really liked the Felicity with the blonde ponytail. Who lived in Star City. With her husband.

She never went back to the girl she was before she dyed her hair in that bathroom in Massachusetts. The thought of never returning to the identity, the life, she had built in the years since then…

She sucks in a deep breath and tells herself to focus on the things that are currently in her control.

Coloring her hair. That’s in her control. That’s about it, but at least it’s something to do that’s not just listening to other people make decisions about her life. Something that has been happening too often lately.

The pink had been William’s idea. He had been mostly joking. She went with it anyway. It’s a happy color.

Fake it ‘til you make it, she figures.

Opening up the box, she slides on the pair of gloves, mixes the dye, and sets to work layering the color onto the ends of her hair in what she hopes will result in an ombre effect. The task isn’t enough to distract her from all the noise in her head.

_Hope Springs._

Before retreating to the bathroom, she had been given the name of the town they were being placed in. Ironic, considering how hopeless everything feels to her at the moment.

When she finishes her hair and goes out to face her new reality, she knows she’ll need to do it with a brave face. And she will. She will be unbreakable. For William. For Oliver. For herself.

But as she transforms herself into someone new, she allows herself a moment to mourn everything she’s leaving behind in the process.

Her cheeks grow wet with tears that she can’t brush away because of her dye covered fingers. Her heart aches in her chest.

She finishes applying the dye, strips off her gloves, dries her tears. Reaching for her phone to set a timer, she swallows thickly at the photo staring back at her on the home screen.

She knows she’ll have to change it. For her protection, every trace of Oliver must be erased from her existence.

Anger bubbles up inside of her. It isn’t fair. If any of the people in suits who stood on the other side of the door actually cared about her safety, they would’ve done something to keep it from being locked away in a supermax.

There’s no one in the bathroom to see how ridiculous it looks as she presses a kiss to her phone screen before replacing the photo with a generic preset.

She paces the tiny space while she waits for the dye to set. Fiddles with her wedding ring. Remembers that it will have to go too. Starts crying again.

When Oliver slipped the metal band on her finger one quiet night after they returned from Central City, she never imagined taking it off. Not like this.

The timer goes off, startling her out of her reverie, and she shuts it off. Shuffling over to the sink, she turns on the water and awkwardly goes about rinsing out the dye in the small basin.

There’s a knock on the door and she opens her mouth to yell for whoever it is to leave her alone before she hears William’s voice.

“Felicity?”

Time to pull herself back together.

“I’ll be right out. I’m almost done.”

She wrings out her hair so it’s not dripping wet and grabs her shirt. Before putting it back on, she looks down at the necklace she’s wearing and gets an idea. Removing her wedding ring, she slides it onto the chain where she can keep it concealed under her shirt. And close to her heart.

_Hope Springs._

Maybe it wasn’t irony. Maybe it was a sign. A sign that she could hold onto hope that she would one day get to be Felicity again. Her ring felt like a tether to that.  

* * *

She holds onto that hope as she works long shifts at the cafe. Makes coffees for couples on first dates and hundredth dates. Feels the prickles of envy towards people getting to laugh and hold hands with the person they love. Writes “Oliver” on a cup of black coffee for a man who isn’t her Oliver.

Holds onto hope as she navigates being a single mom to the teenager who sits every day at the corner table in the cafe and reads through shelves of books that she thinks help him forget their reality for a few hours.

As they create memories that Oliver will never be part of. Inside jokes he won’t understand.

She gains a whole new respect for her mother.

She holds onto hope as she crawls into bed at night. Alone. Exhausted. The sheets cold without Oliver lying on her side of the bed while she takes her makeup off and brushes her teeth to warm them up for her.

She’s still trying desperately to hold onto  hope as weeks pass and the pink in her hair fades and she finds herself staring at her reflection in the mirror as she re-dyes it again and again.

She’s tired. She misses her husband, her home. John has communicated with them a few times through a secure ARGUS channel. The fact that he skates around an answer to her questions about how Oliver is doing gives her nightmares. Literally.

She can’t remember the last time she slept through the night without being haunted by the most horrendous things she can imagine happening to her husband in that prison. Things he probably believes he deserves, which is what pains her the most.

Rinsing out the dye, she towels off her hair and pads out to her bedroom to put her pajamas on. One of Oliver’s sweatshirts, the neckline a little tinged with pink from her hair, and a pair of his sweatpants that long stopped smelling like him but were the closest thing she had to being wrapped up in his arms.

She climbs into bed and opens the drawer in her bedside table where she keeps a picture of her and Oliver. A picture from happier times, simpler times. Maybe tonight she’ll be spared of her nightmares and instead dream of them as they were in that moment. It’s worth hoping for.

* * *

The next day she’s facing away from the counter making a caramel decaf iced coffee when she thinks she’s started going crazy.

“So that barista over there, with the pink hair… what do you think my chances are with her?”

Hearing her incarcerated husband’s voice in a cafe in the middle of Hope Springs, West Virginia is definitely a sign of insanity.

She hears her co-worker respond with, “I wouldn’t say they’re great, she’s turned down every guy who’s come in here and tried to flirt with her. Now me on the other hand--”

Putting the lid on the coffee, she turns around and very nearly drops it on the floor. Unless she’s also having very vivid hallucinations, she’s not insane.

He meets her eyes and she feels her flickering hope burst back to life. He looks a little rougher around the edges than she’s seen him in a long time, a full beard conceals the jawline she loves to pepper with kisses, but it’s him.

After months of having to be a woman that isn’t Felicity, one with pink hair and no husband, she hesitates. Looks around for an ARGUS agent that isn’t there to give her permission to be her old self again. Her real self.

_“Felicity.”_

He says her name and that’s all she needs. Shoving the iced coffee into her confused co-worker’s hands, she runs around the counter and into his arms. Feels him wince. Knows she’ll find bruises and new scars under his clothes, that some of her nightmares came true for him. She puts it out of her mind for the moment and buries her face in the crook of his neck.

For the first time in months she feels truly safe. For the first time in months she feels like herself.   

She could be content to stand there wrapped up in him forever, reveling in the moment she had been holding onto hope for, but she hears, _“Dad?”_ and knows she has to let him go.

Taking a step back, she sees William, just returned from the library with the same look of disbelief on his face that she had worn moments before.

“Hi buddy.”

Oliver stretches out his arm and pulls William into their hug. She can only imagine what the cafe patrons are thinking of their spectacle. She can’t bring herself to care.

“Does this mean we’re going home?” William asks, his voice a little muffled against Oliver’s chest.

This means they _are_ home.

It doesn’t matter that they’re a million miles away from Star City. Home is where the heart is, and hers has finally returned to her.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter @mo_writes :D


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